Darkiplier & Markiplier: Fanfic
by Tinatiny3510
Summary: A fully emerged Darkiplier, slowly grows more powerful over time. Does Mark have what it takes to stop him before his evil half takes complete control?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Darkiplier's P.O.V. is present-tense. Markiplier's P.O.V. is past-tense.

**Warnings:** M/M, torture, dark themes

**Disclaimer(s): **I do not own Markiplier or any of the games mentioned within

"Hello Mark..." a black silhouette of a very familiar form steps out of the darkness to greet his host.

Seemingly ignoring the figure, Markiplier continues on, greeting his fans over his camera, "Hello everybody! And welcome to..." his voice trails off as the dark doppelganger hisses beside the unaware youtuber, "You may not see or hear me yet, pet. But soon, I shall rise from your darkest of fears and have you serve me...forever."

-o-o-M-o-o-

"Ah, yes...a few more horror games will do you in..." the dark form chuckled, "And then I can enter in and take control."

A message in Mark's inbox piques the dark, second-half as he hovers over to the computer screen. A suggestion from a fan; a game called _Raspy Hill_.

The figure's eyes narrow, a smile creeping onto his darkened features. "Ah, perhaps even less than just a few! It's perfect...Mark is scared, absolutely frightened by dolls."

Slowly, he traces Mark's face with a finger, whispering dangerously low, "Aren't you, my dear?"

Mark shudders slightly, still keeping his eyes on the screen before him.

"We're going to have a lot of fun..." the dark silhouette cackles, fading back into the blackness.

-o-o-M-o-o-

"_I don't quite feel like myself...I've been having strange dreams lately...But now you're here...and I'll make you feel right at home...Welcome to Raspy Hill...Enjoy your stay."_

The once proud and powerful youtuber felt himself slipping away with every sentence he spoke.

Mark awoke that night in a dark field, surrounded by inanimate dolls. He was startled by a very familiar sounding voice. His own, in fact!

"Hello Mark."

Alarmed, the youtuber turned swiftly around to face...himself? "Who...who are you?"

"Tsk tsk, where are your manners?" how similar the other's voice sounded to his own was uncanny! "You're in my realm now. I'll be asking the questions around here. Anyway, to answer your question, I am Darkiplier."

Mark was scared and confused. He didn't like where he was and had millions of questions floating about in his head. _Who was Darkiplier? Where did he come from? What did he want? Why was the great Markiplier __**here**__ in his 'realm'? How the hell did he even get here?_

Almost as if Darkiplier could read Mark's mind, he spoke in a low, creamy voice, "As we stand, your beloved fans-"

"NO! Not my fans! Anything but my fans!" Mark yelped.

Darkiplier looked annoyed, from being interrupted, "...Ahem. Anyway, your fans created me." It seemed as if he was about to say something more elaborately or at the very least something well spoken.

"What?" Mark's jaw dropped in disbelief, "They would never do such a thing."

"Believe me when I tell you, they did." Darkiplier smiled, "they don't know I'm a living nightmare for you... and I'd like to keep it that way."

Before Mark could even ask why, Dark cut in, "You see, if they ever found out I was a real problem for you, they'd stop 'creating me'."

Now a new question arose: _How were his fans creating this "Darkiplier"?_

Again, as if he could read Mark's mind, Darkiplier chuckled, "Fan art." He sighed giddily, "Fan art is such a beautiful thing. Really."

Mark, being the talker that he was, couldn't stay quiet forever, and was surprisingly getting tired of listening to his own voice, "When are you ever gonna shut up?!"

Darkiplier shook his head in disapproval, sighing, "And here I thought things were going so well..."

Cracking a few bones along the way, Darkiplier straightened up from his hunched-over form, "Very well. Since I am not strong enough to do my own will yet, I will let you go home."

With that, Darkiplier snapped his fingers, sending Mark back to awake in a cold sweat, panting heavily.

Upon awaking, he looked around, taking stock of his surroundings, before sighing with relief, "Just a dream." He laughed shakily, attempting to reassure himself.

Hauling himself up from his bed, he made his way to the bathroom sink to splash some water onto his face. He had hoped to get the strange dream out of his mind. His eyes drifting up to the mirror slowly, he saw his own bleary visage looking somewhat tired and beleaguered-which was strange, considering he'd slept rather well, aside from the strange dream.

Mark leaned forward, his eyes still locked with the image of his own face in the mirror. He grasped onto the sink's rim, and breathed slowly. It was only a dream. Dreams were always strange. Nightmares occurred all the time, he reasoned. Everything was perfectly...

He had almost missed it. It was only there for a split second, but there was no doubting it; the dark figure from Mark's dream appeared before himself, posing as his own reflection.

Immediately, he ran out from his bathroom, not stopping until he reached his studio, scrambling to get into his chair. It couldn't be real. It wasn't. No, he had imagined it. The dream had simply unnerved him, that's all. Everything was fine. He just needed to get his mind off of it.

But when he finally booted up his computer, he shrieked at what was found there.

Images of fan art about "Darkiplier" filled his dash, inbox, wall, and email.

Mark whimpered loudly, "He's not real! Not real at all!" covering his face with his hands, shielding his eyes from the fan art.

Not as if the art was horribly drawn. In fact, most if not all, was done exceptionally well. Perhaps even _too_ well.

Wait. A sudden thought occurred to Mark. Was Darkiplier not only built from solely his fans, but...from his own subconscious?

"_I shall rise from your darkest of fears..._" a faint, familiar voice chants. Mark couldn't help but feel déjà vu. It was as if Darkiplier had said that routinely since the dawn of time. Not that he's been around that long. It just seemed that way.

Mark could not see Darkiplier, but it was clear that he was indeed in the room alongside Markiplier. The youtuber shuddered. _Had Darkiplier just touched him?_

At this point, he no longer felt such an abject fear toward Darkiplier. The fear had been replaced with a sense of overwhelming curiosity about this darker half of his and yet, he was also very wary of the idea of making his evil twin strong enough to see, hear and perhaps (if given the damn chance) to converse with him.

-o-o-M-o-o-

"Ah, yes...my pet. You may not see or hear me now. But soon, I shall rise from your darkest of fears and have you serve me...forever." Darkiplier's form becomes that of a mist of jet black smoke. He cackles, as he fades back into the dark blackness. Back to his new found home. _Raspy Hill_.


	2. Chapter 2

He knew the counsellor would deem him crazy if he had mentioned his darker half as real.

He started simply with, "I had a dream that..." but he very well knew that Darkiplier was much too real to have been just a dream.

Mark shook violently just thinking about it, "My reflection came to life and started stalking me and trying to kill me and no one else could see him."

The counsellor took note of Mark. His face, his eyes, his body language.

The fact Mark spoke in a run on sentence meant he was hiding something, or hiding FROM something.

The counsellor spoke softly, as not to spook his shaken, nervous patient, "Mark, it seems that you've been under a lot of stress lately. Is it possible your late night recordings of playing these horror games are getting to you?"

Mark's eyes shot up at the counsellor, darkly. The youtuber could barely think. He would regret what would be said next. "They're giving him more attention than they're giving me. They don't love me. Maybe they never loved me..."

Suddenly, he snapped back to reality from his disconnect, "I'm losing my mind." Mark turned his head toward the dimly lit window furrowing his brows. His admittance to needing help could not have been more sincere, "I can't work properly. He's playing with my mind."

This piqued the counsellor's curiosity, "Who, Mark?"

Mark's face darkened with both sorrow and pain, yet at the same time appeared to hold a superior condescending smile, "Darkiplier..."


End file.
